Curious Mortal
by ElektraCane
Summary: What if the first time Damon and Bonnie met, Bonnie was living in the Salvatore boardinghouse? There's an undeniable chemistry between them that seems explosive and unstable to outsiders looking in, and unfortunately they get burned. They can't stay away from each other. No matter what they do. No matter how hard they try and sometimes they try all night. Slightly AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello people. I'm not exactly new to the Bonnie/Bamon fandom. I've been around for a while, and decided to try my hand at writing a story. I always wondered how different TVD would be if Bonnie and Damon met first (as LJ had written in her one-shot story). I can't say I'll exactly be following canon of the show, but you may see events or scenes from particular episodes trickled throughout. Thank you so much for giving this a chance. I hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with The Vampire Diaries and therefore disclaim ownership of characters. The plot is mine. Copyright infringement is not intended.**

They say nice is boring. Boring could equate to being predictable and living a routine life and giving the same answer to the same questions day in and day out. If nice is boring and everyone is supposed to be nice then wouldn't that make everyone boring? What people want is excitement and danger, but they also want comfort and security. You want to wake up in the morning and know that someone didn't steal your shit, but you also want to have something interesting to talk about around the water cooler than saying you fell asleep with the television watching you.

Right now I'm in a relationship with Matt Donovan. We've known each other since the third grade but that doesn't mean we've had a thing for each other since the third grade. I always looked up to Matt as a brother because he's two weeks older than me, and if someone was giving me a hard time on the playground he would be the first person to rush to my rescue and say, "Pick a fight with someone your own size." Normally Matt would be a bloody pulp once it was all said and done, but his courage made him a hero in my book.

Then my protector became more than that. I started to look at him not as that boy who rushed around in his Spider-Man underwear and rain boots with a towel wrapped around his neck; I looked at him as someone I wanted to kiss and have him kiss me back. So in our freshman year in high school we made things official.

A once gangly in-betweener transformed into a hunk of a specimen with defined bi and triceps, a six pack, pectorals that put my boobs to shame, strong legs, and hands as big as baseball gloves. That was my Matty. He was sweet. Always remembered my birthday and our anniversary. Always opened doors for me, always held my hand and he didn't care if all his friends were around. Called me every night before falling asleep just to hear my voice one last time, and always let me have the last bite of his Pop-Tart. I was happy with Matt, we were happy together, and then little by little everything between us slowly started to unravel.

It started when my house went up in flames. I was awakened by my hysterical father when the fire alarms failed to go off. We managed to rush out and thankfully one of our neighbors had called the fire department. It was surreal standing outside and watching literally my entire life go up in smoke. I had lived in 1527 Honeycutt Drive my whole life. Celebrated every birthday up until my sixteenth, under the roof of that house. Had too many sleepovers to remember. Had so many "firsts" in that house that was now turning into rubble.

Matt had arrived on the scene and before he showed up my face had been dry, but the moment I laid eyes on him that's when the flood began. Matt and I had shared our first kiss on the porch that was now being eaten by flames. We had played "show me yours I'll show you mine" under the covers in my bed. So much history all of it gone.

"It'll be okay," Matt said soothingly while he kept my face buried in his chest. I remember his smell. He smelled like Axe body wash.

I wanted to believe Matt that everything would be okay. He had a way of making it seem like the most impossible situations were easy to overcome, and most of the time they were. I held on to him and the hope that there would be some silver lining involved in all of this, but it was hard adjusting to what was now reality.

Dad and I were homeless. The American Red Cross put us up in a nice hotel until living arrangements could be squared away. Dad would return to the room frustrated after haggling with the insurance company on what they were going to pay and replace. The fire had been ruled as electrical which my dad thought was covered under the current policy, but the insurance company were trying to finagle their way out of coughing up the dough.

"It'll be okay, dad," I had repeated Matt's words to me to my father who wanted to rip the phone out of the wall.

"We're not paupers, Bonnie and I refuse to live like one."

Matt came to visit me everyday, and when I needed a break from listening to random couples getting their freak on, I'd stay with him or Caroline or Elena.

Oh sure, several of my dad's friends offered up their homes for us to stay, but dad had a real problem with accepting charity. Pride is what got in the way, until one day he came into the room and started packing clothes. Clothes we had purchased from Salvation Army, Wal-Mart, and Goodwill.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"I found us a place."

"You did?" I asked excitedly and immediately got off the bed and started zipping around the room grabbing my stuff and dumping it into duffel bags. "Where?"

"It's just a few miles outside of town. It's temporary, but it's spacious. Has six bedrooms, a huge kitchen, a ridiculous backyard, a billiards room, and even a library."

I stopped packing and looked at my dad. "That sounds like a mansion."

"It…is," my dad remarked hesitantly.

"How could we possibly afford to stay there?"

"Well…it's a boardinghouse."

My jaw dropped. I didn't know much about boardinghouses only that it sounded like a halfway house and I knew what those were. They were places where convicts released from jail on good behavior stayed before moving into an approved apartment or other residence. I didn't want to live with criminals!

My dad took one look at my face and frowned. "It's not that kind of place, Bonnie. You remember Zack Salvatore?" he waited for me to nod and I did. He was known around town but I had never met him. "It's his family home. He's the only one who lives there, and when he heard what happened he said he wanted to help."

"Wait…you can accept the help of a total stranger but not the help of your bowling friends?"

"Zack is single and doesn't have any kids. All of my friends are married with families, which meant living quarters would have been extremely tight. Do you want to share a fold-out bed with your old man?"

I wrinkled my nose in distaste.

"Now you see my point."

I wanted to argue some more, but I bit my tongue and continued packing. It didn't take long before I was done.

"I know this isn't ideal, but the realtor is still trying to find a foreclosed property that we can get for a steal. And until something pops up on the market," my dad shrugged, "why not live in a mansion in the mean time."

He must have thought that my mind would only focus on the fact that I would be living in a mansion. Yeah, it seemed like a sweet deal only we didn't have "we live in a mansion money". My father was not wealthy, but we weren't towing the poverty line either. He worked as a pharmaceutical rep and earned a nice living, but he was in debt.

Wordlessly we checked out of the hotel never to return again, and my eyes were wide open as I followed my father in my Prius towards our new home.

When we pulled up my jaw hit the pavement. The place was huge. It was a red brick Tudor that sat on a good ten acres of land.

Zack Salvatore welcomed us and I couldn't stop staring at everything. The place looked like a freaking museum on the inside and smelled like old money and leather bound books. When I was introduced to Zack he seemed like a gentle man, distinguished with romance novel good looks. I pegged him to be in his late thirties, early forties only because of the gray hair around his temples.

"Have a look around," Zack said.

I didn't do too much snooping. The main level of the house had two living rooms each with colossal, imposing fireplaces and more furniture than should be allowed. The library was also on the main floor, fully stocked with what looked like the original copies of many of the great British and American classics. There was a basement which wasn't finished, and the third floor had one bedroom and that was it.

"Where can I put my stuff?" I asked Zack.

"I'll show you."

He led me to the second floor and to the left. We walked down until we reached the end of the hallway, but my attention was caught by the bedroom on the right. The door was open offering me a bird's eye view of the room. It was huge!

"Wow," I exclaimed. "Is that your room?"

Zack looked at what I was gawking at and something in his face changed. "Ah…no. It's no one's room at the moment. I think you'll be fine here," Zack opened the door and showed me a nice clean bedroom with a four poster bed, desk, armoire, and a small fireplace. It was almost the same size as my old bedroom.

"You have your own bathroom so you won't have to share the communal one on the other end of the hall."

"Thank you," I said grateful to have a real roof over my head.

Zack offered up a polite smile before leaving me alone to get settled. Didn't take long. Everything I owned could fit into the armoire. My dad came to check up on me and asked if I wanted anything special for dinner now that he could put his culinary skills to work in the kitchen. I told him to surprise me and then I was alone again in my new digs, absorbing it all in.

Night had fallen, my belly was full, I was done with my homework, and I had talked to Matt. I should have been exhausted but I wasn't. There wasn't a TV in the room. I wasn't really sure if there was one in the house. Modern appliances and technology seemed kind of out of place in this house that reminded me of something you'd see in England.

I couldn't believe I had lived in Mystic Falls my whole life and not know a place like this existed. Granted it wasn't exactly within city limits, still I should have heard something about it.

Just then, my curiosity about the other bedroom got to the best of me. I slipped out of my room, listening for the sound of my father's voice or Zack's and couldn't hear anything. I wasn't exactly sure how big this place was, it was pretty massive, but I hadn't checked out all ten thousand square footage of it yet.

My first stop was that bedroom which should be featured on the cover of _Architectural Digest_.

The door was closed this time and I hoped the hinges were well oiled. Although this place was now "home" in a sense I couldn't escape feeling like a guest. I didn't want to offend Zack if he just so happened to catch me snooping, but he should have known it would happen being I'm a girl and a teenager and like sticking my nose where it didn't belong.

Carefully I turned the elaborate door handle. Even it was fancy.

"Wow," I said again not having any other words to describe what I was seeing. The bed alone was bigger than my entire house—old house—I should say. It sat adjacent from a pair of floor-to-ceiling Gothic windows flanked with burnished gold drapes. The bathroom was to the left outfitted with a deep bathtub that could easily fit three people, a glass walk-in shower, one person sink, and toilet.

Stepping back into the bedroom that's where I noticed that a fire was going, and a 72 inch flatscreen was mounted on the far wall of the room.

Making my way to a door that I could only assume was the closet, I opened it up only to reveal it was empty.

This had to have been the master suite from its size alone and it made me wonder where Zack laid his head. Could it be possible there was a room in this house that was bigger than this one? I doubted it but it was possible.

My next destination on this tour was the windows, curious to find out what the view was like. It was of the backyard. Not much to see other than foot after foot of manicured grass and trees. No lake or swimming pool. That was a bit of a bummer.

"Like the view?"

I spun around and nearly choked on my heart because it tried to make its escape through my mouth. Slapping a hand over my chest, I stared at the person and felt myself being thunderstruck.

Pale white skin, coal black hair, a shockingly intense pair of silver-blue eyes, smirking rose pink lips greeted my vision.

"Ummm…" I was rendered speechless and incoherent. Then I wondered if the guy had been referring to the view outside or him. "It's nice."

His smirk turned into a smile but he didn't reveal any teeth. The man wasn't terribly imposing. He stood a little over average height, probably weighed around one hundred-eighty pounds, but there was definitely_ something_ about him that screamed keep away.

He had a handsome face, a freakishly handsome face that seemed timeless in a sense or was the product of some really good Botox. From where I was standing there wasn't a line or wrinkle to be seen. And though he was probably only a few years older than me, there was something about his eyes that seemed older than his boyish yet manly good looks.

The man stepped into the room, no longer blocking the door. In less than two seconds he had crossed over the hardwood floor and stood nearly toe-to-toe with me not once breaking eye contact.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean…I know I'm not supposed…I'll leave…" words tripped out of my mouth.

"What kind of monster would I be if I kicked a beautiful young girl out of my room?"

My cheeks flushed and suddenly it felt like someone turned up the heat. "This is your room?" I told my brain not to concentrate on the fact he said I was beautiful.

The man nodded his head and then reached for my hand. I gasped a little because his was cold.

"I'm Damon…Damon Salvatore. And you are?"

"Bonnie…Bennett."

I watched as Damon lifted my hand up as he bowed a little bit to kiss my knuckles. His lips were cold too but it didn't stop a rush from going through me.

"Looks like I picked the perfect time…to come back home," he said.

That night was the start of it all. And I learned several things.

Damon Salvatore was not nice and he was far from being boring. He was the kind of guy that mothers warned their daughters to stay five hundred feet from; and the kind of guy that fathers went out and purchased shotguns for. Too bad, my dad's gun had melted into nothingness in the house fire.

To be continued…

**A/N: Wouldn't it be interesting indeed if Bonnie and Damon lived under the same roof? If you're wondering, Stefan will appear as well as other characters, but in due time. But thank you so much for reading. Please let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: First let me say a huge THANK YOU to those who have read, reviewed, favored, or alerted this story. I'm glad you like things so far and I finally figured out where I want to take this, and hopefully you'll stick with me until this baby is concluded. Here is the latest. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

The cold receded when he let go of my hand. I couldn't really tell you why I felt bereft at the lack of contact, I mean I should be happy he finally let me go because the sensation that traveled up my arm started to unnerve me a little bit.

I kept my eyes on Damon as he did a minor revolution around his bedroom, seemingly familiarizing himself with the décor, the space, whatever. With his back to me, I took advantage and gave him a very thorough perusal. He had nice arms. They weren't overly muscled, were in proportion with the rest of him. Normally this kind of thing wouldn't really have any kind of effect on me, and on a good day I found it kind of gross if a whole bunch of veins protruded from a person's skin, but the veins that were present on Damon's forearms were kind of sexy.

I rolled my eyes. I really should carry my tail back across the hall and go to bed. I had…have a boyfriend, and I shouldn't be burning the midnight oil ogling someone else.

Damon hopped up on his massive bed, arms folded behind his head. When he did so I was surprised a cloud of dust didn't go up in the air, but then again I wasn't sure how often Zack cleaned the place, if he cleaned this manor at all. Drawing my attention back to Damon, he wiggled his eyebrows, and then tapped the space next to him in invitation.

"Join me."

I shook my head. "I have school. I really should get some sleep."

Damon visibly pouted. "Let me be the first say that school is overrated. What you're being taught from textbooks is _not _going to help you in the real world. But I guess my first act in returning home shouldn't be corrupting the youth," he grinned slyly. "Where is your room by the way?"

I gulped and wondered if I should tell him it was directly across the hall. I mean it wasn't that big of a secret and he'd figure it out sooner or later.

"I'm across the hall," I told him. That information seemed to please him as a slightly wicked glint came into his azure eyes. Man, his eyes were hypnotic. I had to look away, so I did.

"Let me walk you," Damon was off the bed again, standing before me in less time it took for me to blink. Either I was really tired or he was just that fast.

He reached for my hand again and instead of pulling away, I allowed him to grab it. His fingers were still cool to the touch, and there was that feeling again that I couldn't quite name. I almost asked him if he might be anemic, but I didn't want to offend him so I bit my tongue.

When I looked down at our joined hands that's when I noticed his ring.

"That's a pretty big ring," I remarked.

Damon held up his hand and wiggled his fingers. "Pretty important, too."

"Really? Family heirloom?"

"Something like that."

"What kind of stone is that?" I had never seen a stone that blue before.

"Lapis lazuli. I know it's a bit much, but…" he hunched a shoulder, "when your family was part of the Italian aristocracy less is definitely not more. This ring is a hundred and forty-five years old."

"Wow, that's…" I was impressed and couldn't find the words to articulate I was impressed. "That's old," I finished lamely and felt stupid.

"Yeah," Damon concurred. "It is."

We walked all of fifteen feet to my bedroom. The door had been left ajar to which Damon pushed open.

"How long have you been living here?" he asked.

"Not even a full twenty-four hours," I stared up at him. Damon wasn't the tallest person in the world, but he still towered over me and I couldn't help but feel like a shrimp next to him. Some days it paid being short and many more days it sucked. Especially if there was something in the kitchen cabinet I couldn't reach. And I also had to endure my share of short, midget, dwarf jokes.

He stood so close to me that when he moved, his arm brushed my shoulder. I was a cheerleader so you'd think I'd be used to guys looming over me since I had no choice but to interact with athletes on a daily basis. But there was just a different vibe coming from Damon. He made me nervous but I could attribute that to his wicked good looks, and I was far from shallow, but I was having a hard time _not _staring at him. He just seemed like he wasn't from _here._

Damon fixed his eyes on me that smirk back in place. "You should get to bed, Bonnie. If you want I can wake you up in the morning."

A personal alarm clock? Hmm, sounded interesting but could potentially land me in a world of trouble.

"No, that's okay," I grinned goofily for a moment and I wanted to slap myself. Be cool, Bonnie, be cool. "I use the alarm on my phone so no worries."

"You sure?" Damon questioned temptingly.

I nodded. I couldn't trust my voice not to crack or squeak if I started talking again.

"Okay," he relented and then kissed my hand again. "Sweet dreams," he said and then pivoted in his heavy boots and got missing.

* * *

I was running late the next morning because my brain refused to stop running so I could get some sleep. All throughout the night I kept waking up because I was sure there was a bird or something perched outside the window cawing repeatedly. Stupid thing kept me up and paranoid most of the night, and I got the feeling it might have been watching me, but that was just a little too Stephen King, Alfred Hitchcock for my blood.

After making several wrong turns in this massive place, I finally found my way to the kitchen where my dad was seated at the table reading the paper. Zack was pouring a cup of coffee and I reached for a slice of toast and quickly lathered it with butter and jam.

"Hey, baby girl," my dad greeted me. "How did you sleep?"

"Not good. There was some bird or something chirping all night outside of my window." I looked at Zack who paused in adding cream to his coffee. "I think I met your nephew last night."

Zack turned around, his face impassive but I saw his nostrils flare a little bit. "Nephew?"

I nodded and bit into my toast and talked with my mouth full. I'm sure that made a pretty sight. "Yeah. Damon."

My dad took his nose out of the paper and looked at me before looking at Zack who kind of paled for a second.

"You met Damon?" Zack asked and then gulped. His Adam's apple bobbed.

Slowly I nodded. "Is he not welcomed here?" I asked tentatively. I got the sense that Zack hadn't been expecting Damon and that made me curious as to why. He seemed all right to me but then again it wasn't like we stayed up all night trading war stories. He could have been a criminal for all I knew.

"Oh," Zack murmured and then went back to making his coffee to his exact specifications.

Oh? That's it? That's all he had to say when just a moment ago he looked ready to bolt for the door or something.

Naturally his lackluster of a response made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on in. Something wasn't right or maybe I just reading too much into the situation when really there was nothing there to read. In any case, I couldn't exactly "investigate" because I had a longer drive than usual to get to school and I was already behind schedule.

"You weren't expecting your nephew, Zack?" my dad questioned putting our host back on the hot seat.

Zack turned and acknowledge my father. "No, I wasn't but he's always welcomed."

To my ears, Zack's tone was a bit silted as if offering Damon any kind of hospitality was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. It was clear those two had issues.

"Maybe Bonnie and I should find lodging somewhere else," my dad suggested.

I was about to protest but Zack beat me to it. "No, it's fine, Thomas. Damon is…Damon," he snorted. "I'm sure he'll behave himself."

Yeah, that would remain to be seen.

Walking around the table, I kissed my dad's cheek, took a sip of his coffee, grabbed my messenger bag, cardigan, and keys, and headed for the door.

* * *

My morning was pretty slow and uneventful. Classes droned on, my fellow classmates passed the time by sending text messages to one another knowing full well that cell phones were banned. Matt had sent me an Instagram of himself making a silly face that made me smile. But no matter what I tried to do to stay awake during English Lit and US History, periodically my mind would travel to last night.

I did kind of expect to see Damon at breakfast, but maybe he just wasn't a morning person. I shook my head. I shouldn't be expecting or anticipating seeing him because he was off limits, and so was I. Yet I couldn't help but replay the scene in the kitchen and the way Zack behaved. I hate to say it and I was probably seeing something that wasn't there, but he almost looked scared that Damon had returned.

At lunch I was finally able to see Matt. He was seated at a picnic table on the quad with Caroline, Elena, his best friend Tyler who was a total douche that I could barely tolerate, and a few other miscellaneous cheerleaders and football players who need not to be mentioned.

Taking a seat next to Matt, he pecked my cheek as I handed over the other half of my grilled cheese, bacon, and tomato sandwich to him.

As usual Caroline was staring at her reflection in the mirror, fluffing up her blonde curls whereas Elena scrambled to finish her Calculus homework. Tyler was busy entertaining everyone with crass jokes and his latest sexual exploit that probably didn't happen. He had a way of confusing himself with soft-corn porn actors.

"How's the new place?" Matt asked and finished off the rest of his sandwich.

"It's cool and so freaking big. I'm going to need a map to navigate my way through that place. But I have my own room, no TV though which is a bummer, but a pretty awesome bathroom," and a mysterious neighbor across the hall, but Matt didn't need to know that.

"You're staying at the Salvatore mansion, right?" Caroline asked still making goo-goo eyes at herself in the mirror.

"Boardinghouse," I corrected. "Yeah, it's my new home until the realtor can find me and my dad someplace more permanent to stay."

"Zack Salvatore is hot. I wonder if he's looking for a sugar baby," Caroline snapped her compact mirror closed and then grinned at me.

Shaking my head I finished the rest of my lunch.

"Hey," Tyler propped his foot on the bench and rested an elbow on his knee. "Did you guys hear what happened to a pair of campers just outside of town the other night?"

His voice had taken on that ominous quality someone did when they were about to tell a scary story. Needless to say Tyler had everyone's attention.

"What happened?" Elena asked distractedly. Calculus was really no friend to her as she continued to mash numbers into her graphic calculator.

Tyler looked around before locking eyes with me for some strange reason. "A man and a woman were killed. Their throats had basically been ripped to shreds and bodies completely drained of blood. The sheriff is saying it was an animal attack."

"But you don't think it was?" Matt inquired.

"What animal do you know leaves bodies in tact except for the neck and drinks only the blood? Doesn't sound like an animal to me."

I rolled my eyes. "So what do you think it was in your astute opinion, and how do you know all of that anyways?"

"My dad is the mayor, duh," he snorted like I was an airhead for even asking him that question to begin with. "What he knows I know by way of snooping of course. You know Mystic Falls has this legend that this place was basically a breeding ground for the supernatural."

Several people groaned. Yep, we all had heard about our sleepy little town once being home to ghosts. A battle had taken place just on the edge of the Lockwood property during the Civil War where close to two hundred soldiers lost their lives. That land had been deemed haunted, and some people said that on nights of a full moon you could hear the wailing of the soldiers dying. If you believed that then you might also believe that the Blair Witch was kicking up her heels in Maryland.

"Whatever, Tyler," Matt said dismissively. "Most legends are just made up stories so I wouldn't put too much stock into that. It was probably an animal."

Caroline began to whine. "I don't want talk about campers with missing throats, animal attacks, or whoo-hoo stuff. Let's talk about something important like the upcoming Founder's events. The ball, the Miss Mystic Falls pageant that I am so totally going to win," Caroline paused and then stared at Elena who wasn't paying her the least bit of attention. She resumed speaking again, "the carnival and the silent auction. I can't wait! I have had my entire wardrobe picked out for this for months."

"Guess what, Caroline," Tyler said, "no one cares."

The guys at the table chuckled while we females graced Caroline with patient smiles. Caroline Forbes was a bit high strung, an extreme perfectionist, but underneath that porcelain veneer was an insecure little girl who felt she had to compete to be the best or be seen as the best at everything. She had been in a fierce rivalry with Elena since the second grade. If Elena made an A, Caroline had to make an A+. If Elena was captain of the swim team, then Caroline had to be chair, captain, and treasurer of XYZ. It was kind of sad to watch Caroline dip her hand into so many projects, stress herself out to be seen as the model student and socialite when most of the time she was in this rivalry alone.

Elena Gilbert would be the first to tell you she didn't exactly relish being put in the spotlight. It was kind of thrust on her being the daughter of the town's lone surgeon and a retired model, and it grew even heavier after they died. Grayson and Miranda Gilbert died when their car drove off Wickery Bridge. Elena had been the only survivor. Months after their deaths she had fallen into an acute depression, and slowly the old Elena was resurfacing. Needless to say, Elena had no problem stepping out of the way so that Caroline could shine, but Caroline had a tendency to go overboard with her demands and expectations, and that alienated people from her, not drew them in.

I tried to keep out of their petty fights and disagreements as much as possible, but inevitably found myself having to step in to play mediator. It wasn't always fun because I hate being in the middle and having to choose sides because they were both my best friends, and I loved them like they were my sisters. It was amazing our friendship had managed to survive puberty which killed most long-term sisterhoods.

"Hey, take a walk with me," Matt whispered in my ear.

Grabbing my stuff we stood up from the bench drawing attention.

"Where are you going?" Caroline asked. "Bon, I need your opinion on a number of things. Sit back down."

"I'm not a dog, Caroline and I need some personal time with my hubby."

Matt blushed and scratched the back of his neck. Any time I called him that it made him uncomfortable. I giggled at his expense.

Caroline growled and gave me her version of the evil-eye to which I promptly ignored.

Taking Matt by the hand he led the way to the football field. We didn't really talk about anything important just general stuff about classes and whatnot.

We took a seat on the bleachers. Matt truly was the boy-next-door. Sweet and unassuming. It took a lot to make him angry because he was easy going most of the time. He was approachable with those big, oceanic eyes of his and blond hair he kept cropped short. Residual baby fat gave him kind of a box shaped face, but that cleft in his chin made him debonair in my opinion.

My thoughts shifted to Damon and I quickly blocked him out. I don't know what was going on with me. But I couldn't help but to compare him to Matt. Where Matt was like a ray of sunlight, Damon was the dark side of the moon with those eyes, obsidian hair, and pale skin.

"You look like you have a lot on your mind," Matt said breaking me from my reverie.

"It's nothing. Like Caroline said a lot of events are coming up, and I need to get prepared because she'll have me sign up to volunteer on every single committee under the sun."

"Well you don't have to worry about a date because that's covered."

I smiled and leaned in for a kiss. Matt obliged and like always his lips were soft and warm.

He brushed my cheek with the back of his knuckles the second we pulled away. "I have ball practice this afternoon, but do you want to meet me at The Grill afterwards."

"Sure. That'll give me time to get my homework done and finish familiarizing myself with my new digs."

"I've heard about the Salvatore boardinghouse but I've never seen it."

"So we should change that. Pick me up there and we can head to The Grill together."

Matt pursed his lips. "I'd have to drive past the Grill to get to the boardinghouse and then backtrack."

"Are you complaining?" I feigned annoyance.

"No, ma'am," Matt was quick to say. "Just that you know it takes more than five bucks to fill up a tank of gas these days."

"Then it might be time for you to get a job. Girlfriends are expensive," I teased.

The humor fled Matt's eyes for a moment and became guarded, but then it was gone. I've known him for what felt like my whole life and knew him just the same as I knew how many freckles were on my face that I covered with makeup so I knew what I said bothered him.

Knowing my boyfriend as well as I did, I also knew that for years his mom had struggled to make ends meet. Kelly Donovan spent more time getting plastered than working or looking for work when she was unemployed. I never asked Matt how they got by month-after-month seeing it was being intrusive, plus it was a sore subject. I never made any kind of financial demands of Matt that several of my other friends did when they were in relationships. From what I was beginning to suspect things were getting tight or were already tight in the Donovan household.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Matt shook his golden head at me. "Nothing." Luckily for him the bell rang ending our moment. He walked me to my next class, kissed my cheek, and headed off.

* * *

Later that afternoon I was taking another tour of the boardinghouse, slapping my hair into a ponytail when I heard someone whistle.

Coming to a stop and looking to my right I was pleasantly surprised to see Damon sitting in an overstuff chair under a window in what was probably another parlor. The sunlight poured down on him making his alabaster skin kind of painful to stare at. Dude was like neon-white and it became even more startling since he was dressed in another black T-shirt and dark denim jeans. There was also a noticeable change about Damon. He had gotten his hair cut, his locks more tamed and less fresh-out-of-bed.

"Hey beautiful," he stood from the chair and approached. "Where are you going?"

I may have blushed at the compliment and wanted to kick myself. I was seventeen not fourteen but Damon had a way of making me feel like I was five years old.

"I…" cleared my throat, "I'm getting ready for a date with my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend," Damon deadpanned.

I frowned at the way he said boyfriend like he was either disappointed I had one or couldn't believe I did.

My attitude came out. "Yes, _boyfriend_."

Damon held up his hands. "Easy there, tigress put your claws back in. Don't get me wrong I would expect someone like you to have one I guess it just…you know what never mind. So is this _boyfriend _coming here to pick you up like a gentleman is supposed to?" his eyes widened theatrically and I wondered if he did that on purpose or it was just a natural reflex. "Or are you meeting him wherever your date is?" he used air quotation marks.

Folding my arms over the bodice of my dress I cocked my head to the side. "You sure do ask a lot of questions."

He grinned. "I'm nosy. It's part of my DNA. Now answer my question."

Instead I turned and walked away. Damon followed. "It's a little early to be playing the role of big brother don't you think?" I asked over my shoulder. "You don't know me."

"And that's what I'm trying to do, Bonnie. Get to know you."

I flicked my eyes over to him. His longer legs made it easy for him to catch up to me. "Why? I'm in high school and you are clearly," I looked him up and down, "not in high school."

My obvious observation made him laugh. "You know boys are stupid and they will only break your heart."

"Thank you for the sage advice but I'll be okay. Though I'm curious what someone would have to say about you."

The gleam came back into his eyes like he was about to break several laws and then play chicken with the cops before jumping continents to escape prosecution.

"They would call me an eternal stud that's bit of a loose canon. I never turn my library books in on time. I smoke in hospitals, and park my car in handicapped spaces. And I always take more than one condom from the fish bowl at the free clinic."

I couldn't help it. I laughed. Yet something told me Damon was probably telling the truth and wasn't just joking around. "So in other words you're a derelict?"

He shrugged. "Of the worst kind. Now back to this boyfriend…"

The bell tolled putting an abrupt end to his inquiry.

"Ooh, I should get that," Damon said and moved faster than I could keep up to answer the front door.

By the time I got there, Damon had welcomed Matt inside and his playful demeanor of only a moment ago vanished an in its place was a cold rigidity or formality. I didn't spend a lot of time watching nature shows or anything, but I got the perverse sense that Damon was doing some subtle territory marking from the way he was nearly glaring at Matt.

Thankfully my boyfriend didn't seem fazed by it. "Hey, I'm Matt, nice to meet you," he greeted Damon and held out his hand.

Damon took the proffered limb and shook it. "Damon. Salvatore."

Matt winced a bit while Damon held on to his hand longer than what a handshake should last.

"Damon," I said hoping to draw his attention. Two seconds later he relinquished Matt's hand and took a step back.

Color flooded Matt's cheeks and I watched as he balled his hand into a tight fist. He looked at me, his eyes a bit glassy and tried to smile. Just exactly how much pressure had Damon used?

"Nice grip," Damon commented.

"Same to you," Matt glowered. He took a deep breath. "You look ah-mazing," he directed at me.

I coquetted a little for him and beamed. It had taken a lot of digging through bins and combing through racks for me to find this Wet Seal dress.

"Thank you. I'm going to grab my purse," I looked between Damon and Matt. "Can you two play nice while I'm gone?"

"You know me," began Damon, "I can be perfectly polite."

I doubted that because I got the sense he liked to secretly make fun of people. It took me less than five minutes to get my purse and when I made it back to the foyer Matt was standing there shifting his weight on his feet, but Damon was gone.

"Where did he go?" I asked.

Matt shrugged. "Let's get out of here."

Nodding, Matt opened the door and then before I knew it Damon was standing right behind me. I squeaked a bit and Matt jumped.

"You two kids be careful."

"Yeah, thanks," Matt grumbled. "Again, it was nice to meet you, Damon."

"Likewise, Mutt."

"It's Matt," I corrected.

Damon looked at me. "That's what I said." He walked off and I stared after him but got moving when I felt Matt's hand on my elbow leading me away.

* * *

Damon had just stepped out of the shower when his phone began ringing. Whistling, he strolled over to the bed and retrieved it studying the number flashing on the caller ID. He answered.

"How is my favorite witch?"

"_Watch yourself, Damon. You're still on my bad side. How is my granddaughter?"_

"She's perfectly fine, Sheila," Damon drew out the woman's name knowing it would irritate her. "She and I are practically BFF's."

There was heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. _"Don't make me regret trusting you."_

"Then I consider myself lucky that I cut a deal with your ancestor and not _you_. Now spit it out. What do you want?"

"_I got an interesting email from my son. Appears his house burned down and he and Bonnie are now residents of your family home. Really, Damon?"_

"Are you accusing me of something?" Damon picked at his nails. "Be careful, _witch _I'm in a good mood today but that can all change in a heart beat," he threatened. "You have no need to worry about your little granddaughter. With Bonnie living here she'll be protected around the clock. Well, except for when she's in school, but that minor hump will be taken care of very shortly."

"_Bonnie's protection?" _Sheila Bennett questioned skeptically. "_Are you sure that's the only reason why you burned down my son's house?"_

"It's the only reason that matters," he answered. "And who said I had anything to do with that?"

"_So you weren't the one responsible?"_

"I can only take credit for the things I actually do. Well, if you don't have anything else to accuse me of I have to go. I'm starving and the night awaits."

"_I'll be home in two weeks, Damon. Nothing better happen before I return. Understand?"_

"I only make promises if intend to break them. Enjoy Peru, Sheila," Damon ended the call and tossed his phone back on the bed. Walking to the mirror he studied his reflection. Perfection, he thought, but his attention was soon drawn back to his conversation with Sheila Bennett and her accusation. He might have lit the match but he wasn't the one who started the fire.

Chapter end.

**A/N: A Sheila and Damon collaboration? Who would have thunk? And what exactly does Bonnie need protecting from? Answers will be given in future updates. Yes, those who are supernatural on the show will be supernatural in this story, but I'm making drastic changes and hopefully it won't ruffle feathers too much. I was always intrigued by the idea of Damon being the protector of the Bennett line and was more than a little peeved that the show didn't delve into that any deeper than him saving Emily's children. Well I definitely want to explore that here so my focus won't primarily be on vampires, but mostly on witches. Thank you all again for reading and please let me know what you think!**


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